Time is Ticking
by angels-of-the-silence
Summary: Angel's bunch of one shots. To be updated!Squee! A new one has appeared!
1. Time is Ticking

Rukia stared out over the Seretei, her eyes glazed, and not really seeing what lay before her, at least in the present.

Her mind was in the past, playing in rivers full of flowers while her friends stood behind her; yelling at Renji for sleeping in trees; standing on windy hills watching the birds; sitting in trees contemplating the sky and its clouds; laughing at her her companions for their antics; just sitting still enjoying the silence.

Her mind lingered on rainy days inside, watching the drops slide down the glass, her face upturned toward the sky and the thunder of gods. Of the human world and all it's wonders she pondered. Of the sweets and books, of people and places. Of her hat that she always wore, and of the single person who had known who she was.

She watched her hand as it wove through the darkness, her pure white robe leaving a trail as it moved. To her, from here, it looked like a fragile nothing, so easily shattered into a million fragments. She could feel the faults all along her skin, the remnants of old wounds, which had long ago healed. There was no healing the largest wound that was carved into her heart.

But she could ignore it, and she had, and she would keep doing so. It was the only way to face what was to come. She deserved her fate that was to come, for sin ate at the wound on her heart, a black mass of pain that would never go away. Writhing just below her skin, pulsating and waiting to be set free.

Of mock fights she though of now. All blows softened by those who trained her. The flight of a bird which was a distraction to the training, and to her sword. The hands which belonged to devoted friends. Those who had cared enough to call her friend. All those who did not deserve to die for her, all those who did not deserve to die at her hands.

The mind that had played so joyfully in a time so long ago came back to the here and now, once against painfully aware of the truth which she had tried to keep inside for so long. On one rainy night, she had killed. Not killed her enemy, or her foe, but a friend. A death she would never be forgiven for. On two rainy nights….


	2. Useless

_**Useless…**_

* * *

Orihime hugged herself, trying to keep her body away from the blasts of energy that shook the ground and caused leaves to flutter to the ground around them. Although the rest of the group that had traveled with them was here, Orihime felt alone. Alone and cold.

She knew her part would come afterward. Later, when all the fighting was done, she'd see to the wounds of Ichigo and the others. It was the only thing she could do. She couldn't fight, and her defense was good, but not perfect. Not like Kuchki-san.

Orihime couldn't help him. Not now, not ever. She could heal him of course, but so could so many other people, like Yourichi-san, and Kuchki-san. There was the fourth division as well, and she was sure they would do a much better job than she ever could. She wasn't necessary.

_Not necessary, extra, dead weight._

She knew that that was what she was.

She had told herself that she had come to rescue Kuchki-san, and that was true, up to a point. The other part was that she'd come to be with Ichigo.

It was foolish fantasy. She'd seen the way that Ichigo had looked when he was thinking about the task ahead of him. She'd seen his eyes, and his smile as he fought… all for Kuchki-san. She'd done her best to cheer him up. It had worked, but for Orihime, the small knot of pain in her chest just got worse. She had known that she would never have the honor of being the one on his mind with that expression on his face.

Dead weight.

A tear trickled down her face. A line of ice across the heat of her face.

It quickly evaporated.

She'd _never_ be like Kuchki-san.

She'd _never_ be the one.

_Useless…._


	3. Sad Stories

Note: I do not own bleach.

Sad Stories

"I can take care of myself, Ichigo."

Ichigo didn't seem to hear Rukia's words as he stared down at her, a worried expression on his face. Rukia just sighed, her own expression one of annoyance. She could take care of herself, but Ichigo seemed to have developed this protective complex, which made him feel he had to be strong enough to save the world. The small shinigami's violet eyes stared back at Ichigo's troubled face.

The scene crackled and hissed on a screen in a dark room. Many such other screens stood blank and unused, while others showed corridors where arrancar wandered aimlessly down the passageways, their eyes trained on the hidden cameras they knew were above them.

Gin Ichimaru watched the argument between the intruders with a curious air about him, his head sitting on his hand, and slightly tilted to the side. After a while, it seemed they have come to an agreement, as Ichigo had nodded slowly, still looking bothered. Their words came through the connection, scratchy and unintelligible as they were. Gin paid the sound no notice.

A promise was made, and the group split up, disappearing from the main screen as others flickered into life around the room. Movments had been sensed, and they were going to show what was happening.

Gin's hand hovered over a small switch, his abnormal smile growing wider.

"Ichimaru!"

Gin looked around, his expression turning to one of mild surprise, although most of his face stayed the same. Tosen had appeared, tone strict.

"Were you changing the passage ways?"

"Me?" Gin asked, his eyes actually widening in innocent shock.

Tosen didn't answer, but looked around. His blank, sightless eyes starring at the flickering and dancing screens. Gin followed his companion's unseeing gaze to the shimmering screen where Kuchki Rukia was running along a passageway.

"I just _hate_ sad stories."


End file.
